Epilogue
“We should take down the Christmas tree.”
The pair was in bed. It was a clear, cold mid-January morning. They were in the trailer. The furnace hummed and chugged, and the Christmas tree was nothing more than a large branch cut off a lush scrub cedar in the woods. Weeks after Christmas, it was starting to turn brown, and was, quite possibly, a fire hazard. Adorned with one string of large, colorful lights and strands of silvery icicle tinsel, the scraggly thing had been quite pathetic even when still deep, dark green. It definitely paled in comparison to the majestic one that had risen almost ten feet tall at the Hellier home, but was special none the less.
“Already?” Frank complained. “It’s the first one I’ve ever had with lights.”
“It will soon be Valentine’s Day,” Liam said.
